


In Dreams

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 15:25:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16140092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “I have died before, brother; life is no great thing to give. And I have always returned to you, have I not?”





	In Dreams

In dreams, Loki comes to him. Pale, haunted Loki, worn down by life and by war but still shining so brightly despite it all; he walks aside Thor, long hands fluttering as he makes promises he cannot keep _(I will come back to you, brother, I swear it on my life, my life that is already gone)_ and tells old stories of a youth, a sunlit boyhood that Thor no longer remembers ( _Two boys, two boys in a field outside of Asgard. The sun is shining, there is so much to fear, to hope for - tell me, have you forgotten that day too?)_.

“Remember, brother,” Loki says, or what is left of him, “I made a promise. I promised you - I promised you that the sun would shine on us again. Do not give up hope.”

“You died,” Thor tells him, his mouth numb and his heart aching in his chest, “I saw you die. I held your body in my arms. There are no more promises for you to make, no more assurances for you to give. You are dead, as lost to me as the ruins of Asgard.”  
  
“I have died before, brother; life is no great thing to give. And I have always returned to you, have I not?”

“You are a liar,” Thor says, and the apparition beside him smiles, indulgent even in death, “And a figment of my imagination. The dead have never visited the living’s dreams, never will.”

“Oh, but brother, I have never done as everybody else has done,” Loki’s smile is tired, even as he speaks, “Perhaps I am truly here beside you now, travelled all the way from Hel just to walk with you, in which case, I am offended. Do you really think that I could ever simply… cease to exist? That I should give up so easily on all my spite, all my rage?”

Thor grunts a laugh, “You did not have a choice, Loki. Death is never a choice.”  
  
Loki turns toward him, and the purple bruise of Thanos’s hand _(the shadow of death, of war and all its sorrows)_ stretches still across his neck, sickly, throbbing, “It can be.”   
  
“Not for you,” Thor says with a shake of his head, “Not this time.”

“Then take solace in the fact that I am here with you now, brother, for if this is what you truly believe, then I will be gone come the morn.”

And Thor wants to weep for this gentle Loki before him, for this Loki who still dreams, still loves.

It is not the Loki who died on the ship that day. It is not the Loki who bled in his arms on Svartalfheim. It is not the Loki who fell from the Bifrost.

But it is _his_ Loki.


End file.
